Twisted Perception
by wigglesfunk
Summary: A little story centered around one of the Five's thoughts on that fateful night. Rated M just to be safe


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The sight of them so happy, so in _love_ literally turned his stomach. Not just for the fact that the idea of love was something he would never understand, or care to. But did she have to be in love with him? He could forgive her for falling for any other man on this earth.

Anyone but Druitt.

The man was simply unbearable and the fact that she adored him only made it that much more painful to watch. The quick glances, the furtive touches, and the overwhelming bond that was so obvious between the two of them. In combination it all made him sick. Sick with envy some would say and he would be inclined to agree. But he would never admit it. Outwardly he presented the perfect gentleman. He worked very hard to achieve just the right appearance; perfectly groomed, educated, sophisticated, debonair, outrageous flirt. Above all he strived to come across as socially acceptable.

None would guess his inner turmoil or desire. Not only did he desire to have the feeling that Helen and John had toward one another, but he wanted it _with_ her. Not just because she was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever known, or encountered, but she embodied everything he would ever want in a companion. No doubt she would prove to be his equal in matters of the mind but the bedroom as well. Many nights found him fantasizing about taking her to bed, his hand stroking himself slowly at first; imagining it was her mouth instead of his palm, taking him to the edge only to finish in horrible disappointment. The frustration getting higher and higher each time he satisfied himself with the knowledge that she may never be his.

None but Druitt's.

That thought accompanied him this night as he gathered with the rest of his colleagues to undertake their most daring experiment to date. Helen, the resourceful woman she was, had acquired quite the rare sample of pure vampire blood. Ancient vampire blood at that and as he got his first look at the blood something in him stirred as though it were calling out to an old friend. Shaking off the odd feeling he focused instead on what Helen was saying.

Dear God but her mouth was perfect. He could just imagine what they would feel like wrapped around him. His hands would find their way to her hair and he would grab it, reveling in the silky curls that cascaded thickly down her back. Getting the familiar twinge that would inevitably follow such thoughts, he drove them out of his mind to concentrate on what she was saying before he unmanned himself right there in front of them all.

Of course she would be the first to inject the serum. It was after all her experiment, they were just willing participants and partly there for moral support. He almost scoffed aloud at that. Like he had any idea what moral support meant. The only reason he had continued to engage in any kind of social activity with these three men was because it really was his only chance to see Helen, be around her, interact with her.

Filling the syringe he once again felt the odd sensation rush over him. It felt as though his blood was humming, waiting for something. He suddenly got an almost overwhelming feeling that this was only the beginning of something much, much greater than any of them could ever imagine; maybe more so for him than the rest. It felt only right that this was where he needed to be, here taking this serum.

But first things first, she needed to take it. That more than anything, at this point, needed to be done. If he was feeling this way then surely by the glint in her eyes she was feeling something close to what he was. The moment was only tainted by the presence of Druitt. Sitting there beside her and looking so very comfortable being that close to her. Anger suddenly reared up inside him. It took all of his control every time he was near her to quell the desire to act on his primal urge. And that urge was telling him to rip her clothes off and ravish her senseless, right there on the floor if need be.

But alas, he was no rapist and she would never consent.

Two of the five tried to dissuade her, halfheartedly, to wait until they had had a go at it themselves. She refused and then turned her gaze up to him, giving him permission to proceed. It was with great difficulty that he plunged the needle into her arm, the desire to keep his skin touched to hers so irresistible that he feared he would reveal himself at last.

He managed to pull himself away when she gasped in pain, her eyes going wide. He reached out to take her hand but it was unneeded. Instinctively she reached and grasped onto Druitt's hand, letting him comfort her. Like pouring salt on an open wound.

Finally she relaxed and they all looked at her, silently questioning. She nodded and then breathed a sigh of relief. That was all they needed and soon all but he had injected themselves, each having the same reaction as Helen. It wasn't fear that kept him from injecting the serum he just preferred being last. He wanted to see how the others reacted, wanted to see if they showed any similar signs to the feelings he was having. In fact by the time he finally held the needle to his own arm his hand was shaking in anticipation.

It felt as though he were slipping into a warm bath. Far from the pain that the others experienced he only felt relief; as though his very blood had been waiting for this release. The tension left his body and he slumped into a chair undergoing what could only be described as an extreme high. He could vaguely hear his colleagues talking excitedly and a lazy smile spread on his face when he could detect just how excited Helen sounded. She no doubt was writing feverishly in her journal and would analyze the result a thousand times before she was satisfied with her findings. Eventually everyone dispersed leaving him and Helen alone for the first time that night. He had been alone with her on many occasions, but this was different. They had just partaken in one of the most secret experiments conceivable and he was not about to leave just yet.

Without warning his body shook and his back arched. He managed to keep the cry of pain from escaping. However Helen noticed the change in his demeanor and rushed to his side to check on him. A fine sweat had broken out all over his body, leaving her fingertips damp with his perspiration when she had checked his temperature. He could barely hear her over the blood rushing in his ears and when she made to move away he grabbed onto her arm, effectively stopping her. She asked if he was feeling alright and he barely managed a nod, explaining that he needed some air. With great difficulty he got up from his slumped position and awkwardly made his way to the door, completely forgetting in his haste to grab his coat. The war waging in him made it that much more difficult to leave her; one part wanted nothing more than to just be with her, but the other, more powerful side was screaming at him to leave. So he left, completely disregarding her questions and concerns.

He spent the night and the following few days cloistered in his study, refusing food and drink. He even refused company, something that did not go unnoticed by the others who had now dubbed themselves The Five. His body was undergoing a transformation and the pain had now subsided only to be replaced with a feeling of invincibility. He felt stronger, faster, and smarter (if that were possible).

Some weeks after the experiment found him sitting outside of Helen's home. She was currently engrossed in her notes, no doubt poring over the results of her own blood work. He stood outside her office window completely still, almost as if made out of stone. And he felt as though he was. Nothing could hurt him, or at least kill him. While he had been holed up in his study he had taken that time to research more on sanguine vampire. He had come to a startling realization.

He was one.

He must have had dormant vampire genes and that was why his blood had come alive when presented with pure untainted vampire blood. The serum had brought his body to life, ironically. He could see in the dark as well as if it was daylight, in fact he preferred it. He had confronted Helen about this revelation and she had immediately began researching on her own. Undoubtedly looking for a remedy or cure, but he would have none of it. This was who he was, who he was meant to be.

Hunger began to gnaw at him and realizing that it had been some time since he had last fed he made his way quickly down to the dirtier side of the city; Whitechapel. There he could eat and not draw any notice. Most of the people living down there went unnoticed and it made for an easy meal. Coming out of the shadows he saw a working girl walking down the street and he smiled. Before taking a step he was stopped when a blue-green flash of light appeared and Druitt was standing behind the girl.

Seeing the glint of a knife flashing in the moonlight, he walked out into the street. Their eyes locked and both knew that tonight both would feed their hunger. It was ironic that they end up like this, both using the same girl for their own purposes. For it was no secret to Druitt his feelings toward Helen. In fact it was a source of contention between them and he now reveled in the fact that Druitt was just as much a monster as he was. He had known for some time that Druitt was none other than the infamous Jack the Ripper and the only reason he had not told Helen was the simple fact that she may not believe him.

Without further ado, Druitt drew the blade across the girl's throat. The blood spilled from the gaping wound and he licked his lips. As he leaned forward and his teeth latched onto the girl's neck he saw out of the corner of his eye Druitt disappearing. He smiled wryly before he began to feed. He may be a monster but he didn't feel the guilt that was obviously tearing Druitt apart.

Oh yes, Druitt would only bring himself to ruin. Until then he would wait patiently, observing from afar. Only then would he make his move and finally take Helen for his own. For now he would go and make his mark on this world.

But was the world ready for Nikola Tesla?

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End file.
